>Shane makes an impromptu meeting with Tony Khan, the CEO of the one and only major promotion in North America to go up against WWe in over 2 decades
>"Aww yeah," Shane smiles, "Here comes the money."
>Shane walks in through the door, three trannies walk out.
>"Huh. Oooo-kay..."
>introduces himself to the reception clerk and looks over to see a shirtless bloated Chris Jericho passed out in the lobby snoring loudly, with half a bottle of Crown Royal on its side near his hand and his gut covered in streaks of nacho cheese. Having seen something like this before, Shane does the polite thing and places a few spare newspapers over top of Chris like a blanket and decides to catch back up with him when his contract expires to see how he's doing.
>*DING* Elevator door opens up and there stand's Tony Khan, wiping away coke from his nose and sniffing and snroting something fierce. His eyes bug out in excitement/feral markdom as THEShane McMahon reaches out his hand to shake his. Tony's head is bobbing so much in excitement, his rat's nest hair shakes and shuffles everywhere.
>After a slew of words all mashed together, Tony's vice grip on Shane's hand hasn't let up as he walks the two of them into his office at the end of the hall before he let's him go. Shane notices the various WWE and AEW wrestling figures strewn all over the office, including assorted Ricky & Morty merch and various dog toys, but see's no dogs present.
>seeing the mad eye twitching and sperg mumbling not slowing down and still reeling from the three big troons he saw leaving earlier, Shane tries to talk business.
>Tony, all wide eyed and sweating belts out: >"Gabbaflabtabadoorblap!!"
>Shane's assistant then arrives to take an candid photo of the meeting right after Tony's outburst
>Shane thanks Tony for his time, and NOPE's the fuck out of the building by doing his shuffle dance the whole way out.
